Searching for Someday (Searching For 1)
Page 8
Besides, she definitely wasn't the type to inspire such basic needs. Fiercely independent, physically distant, with a chilly demeanor that said "Back off, this is all business."
Getting involved with the owner of a matchmaking service was pure doom and stupidity.
Not. Interested.
The cackling voice rose up and mocked his thought, but he figured he'd drown it in alcohol and salt.
Just another Friday night.
His cell beeped. He scooped it up, checked ID, and clicked the button. "About time you called me back. Are you okay?"
The deep sigh on the other end held a twinge of irritation he'd never heard before. His overprotective instincts toward his baby sister overrode his instinct to back off. "Just because I don't check in with you on a daily basis doesn't mean I'm lying dead in the gutter. Mom."
He winced and tucked the phone under his chin. "Ha, ha. Look, cut me a break. You moved out of my house, quit your job, and signed up with a matchmaking agency within a month. I'm still trying to catch up."
"I know. But things are good. I love my new job, and I'm excited about my experience with Kinnections. The women there are so nice and approachable."
Kate's image flashed in his mind. More like sexy and frustrating. "You don't think they're a bunch of crazies stealing your money? You know, statistically, matchmakers gain no results and only offer an empty illusion. I surfed the net. Numbers never lie. Most of the marriages they arrange end up in divorce within three to five years."
Uh-oh. Her tone took on the higher pitch of a woman ready to lose it. "Enough with the statistics! Just because your marriage didn't work out, and your clients get divorced, doesn't mean I need to pay by being lonely."
The pain stirred, but he wrestled it back. Yes, he'd failed his marriage, just as his ex-wife had. But Jane didn't understand. How could she? He was the one who protected her from a bunch of crappy men who thought they could take advantage of her. The revolving door of brokenhearted individuals barely keeping their sanity was his daily reality. Jane's sweetness and fragile ego were prime targets of con men, and they'd already been through too many. He had to pay the last guy off to walk away. At least the asshole couldn't claim to be a starving artist anymore and hit up his sister for money.
"I don't want you to be lonely. I just don't want you to get hurt."
She sighed and her voice softened. "I'm sorry, Slade, that was a rotten thing for me to say. But I don't want you to chaperone me. If I get hurt, so be it. At least it will be on my terms. I won't hurt myself again."
The image of that night rose up and choked him with emotion. He'd almost lost her. He'd promised himself in that hospital room he wouldn't let her down again. Jane needed one person to count on, and by God, he'd spent the last years making sure she was protected. "I know. I'm proud of you."
"Thanks."
He dragged in a breath. Time to spill the truth. "In fact, I was so intrigued with the idea I actually paid them a visit. Decided to sign up myself for the experience."
His casual tone contradicted his unease. Put himself in the hands of Kate and her female crew? Meet a bunch of women he didn't know in the pursuit of some type of affair that wouldn't work out anyway?
Yes. He'd do it for Jane. To keep an eye on her and Kinnections.
Silence hummed over the line. "Are you kidding me? Why would you sign up with a matchmaking agency? You don't want to settle down!"
"Maybe I do. Maybe I'm looking for a companion to share my life with. If this place is as good as they say, I'll find someone, too. Hey, we can double date."
A strangled laugh echoed. "You are so screwed-up. I can't believe you'd really go through with this. The screening is intense. Are you getting a makeover?"
Hell no.
"We'll see. Did you get your first date yet?" he asked.
"Soon. Kennedy is taking me to the salon this weekend to freshen up my appearance. Then she gave me some guys to peruse online to get an idea of my taste."
The meat market atmosphere gave him the chills. Did people really do this shit just to get a date? For God's sake, why? "Hey, I'd appreciate it if you kept me in the loop. I'm a bit nervous about the whole thing. It'll help to know what you're going through, too."
Suspicion laced Jane's voice. "Kate will take good care of you."
An image of Kate on her knees unzipping his pants flashed before him. Sweat prickled his skin. What was wrong with him? "Maybe."
"When's your first date?"
"I'm getting a mixer next Friday night." He drained the beer dry. "Why don't you come?"
"What? Are you crazy? It's the first time you're meeting these women."
"Who cares? You can find out how Kinnections works, and I can get your opinion. Besides, I never see you anymore, and they're setting it up in Verily. It's out of my element. I've never seen so many weird pottery shops in my life. How many pots can one person own?"
She gave the familiar snort she had since childhood. "Nothing's out of your element, Slade. That's your problem."
"So, you'll come?"
"Sorry, I can't. I'm buried deep in research for my new article and won't surface for a week."
"Lunch this weekend, then? I'll give you the rundown on my experience."
"Sure. I'll take you to Mugs, they have great burgers."
"Fine. I'll see you at one on Saturday."
They exchanged good-byes and he terminated the call.
He was in perfect position now. Jane wouldn't be suspicious, and he'd be able to watch her and monitor the company.
He hit the remote on the chair and eased back another inch, trying to concentrate on Milton's speech regarding the moving of his desk, squirrels, and his precious red stapler. What made a woman decide to start a matchmaking business on her own? Was she just a savvy businesswoman looking to make a buck on a good sale? Or did it run much deeper? Her probing questions stirred a nest of emotions he had no interest in exploring.
The knowledge of love wasn't enough, would never be enough. There was pleasure, and enjoying the moment, and respect. Sometimes there was even friendship.
But not love. At least not long-term.
He thought about Kate and her own personal confession. The words rang in his mind like a mantra.
No man has ever wanted me enough to propose.
Her raw honesty touched something deep inside him. A part that ached to soothe the hurt and prove her wrong.
Yeah, a matchmaker and a divorce lawyer. That's got success written all over it.
His lips twisted into a smile. Probably the universe punishing him for his sudden craving to seduce her. Hell, he knew why he'd gotten into his career. To help guide the heartbreak and messiness of America's favorite pastime: screwing the ones they loved. He helped a few people and made a ton of money. Sure, he wasn't respected, and when he told people his career, they looked as if they'd gotten a piece of gum stuck on their sole. But who cared? No way was he messing up everything by chasing after a love do-gooder.
He was happy.
Life was perfect.
"ROBERT, I'M HOME!"
The scramble of feet on the ground filled her with a quiet joy. Her roommate, companion, and best friend appeared around the corner and headed straight for her.
Kate dropped to her knees and waited. His nonworking back legs didn't slow him down a bit as he scooted over the floor and stopped right before her. She touched her forehead to his smooth fur. The gentle lick to her face was the only sign of deep affection her dignified dog allowed himself to express. She petted his back and checked his bladder. Almost full. Another hour and the poor thing would've had a problem. "Sorry, baby, I was late. Stayed to eat with the girls. Let's go."
Kate reached for the scooter beside the door and hooked it up with an expert ease that made her proud of how far they'd come. Together. She ignored the leash and led him outside to the perfect patch of grass meant for him. The whip of the frosty air caused her to shiver, but Robert twitched his nose, took a deep doggy b
reath, and ran.
She laughed at his outright joy and freedom, the wheels of the cart spinning rapidly as he raced over the lawn to his favorite tree, and began to do laps round and round the gnarled trunk. A deep sense of peace settled over her. Her bungalow-type home might be small, and her yard less than half an acre, but she'd managed to create a home and a family she loved on her own terms.